What Counts
by dakFinv
Summary: It's finished!! Finally! Yea!! Darien has given up a life of crime, but when some past and present Christmas experiences get him depressed, an unexpected run-in with an old friend might make him change his mind.
1. "Merry Christmas, yeah right"

Spoilers: Johnny Apocalypse 

Disclaimer: I don't own them, never will. I'm not making any money off this so don't sue me. Besides, if I did own them, they wouldn't be canceled! (Come on UPN!) Just wrote this for fun!

Note: Even though I don't own the underfunded five, the character of Max Kifton is mine. Just pulled the name out of my head, so if it is your's no offense. Oh, and in this fic The Agency is back under Health and Human Services. I always liked them best. Enjoy!

  


**Chapter 1: "Merry Christmas, yeah right**

  


_Some smart-ass once said that when it comes to getting gifts, it's the thought that counts. That's all well and good, but I always thought sure the thoughts great, but for a guy who doesn't have much, what's wrong with getting a cool gift as well? I mean everyone deserves something special, right? Well, this Christmas I got a true gift. And even though this sounds like a line from a cheesy after-school special, I learned one of the true meanings of the holidays._

  


"Gentlemen, I'd like to congratulate you own your successful mission. Those drug smugglers will think twice when it comes with messing with you two again, he he."

  


"Thank you, sir," replied Darien Fawkes and Bobby Hobbes.

  


"Uh, sir? May I inquire as to why you are so cheerful this afternoon? Don't tell me it's just because of our excellent work."

  


"Of course not, Bobby. It's because with the success of your latest mission, we have been given an increased allowance from the Bureau of Health and Human Services. We have increased their confidence in us boys, so don't screw it up again. Anyway, because of this wonderful news I have decided that you are both getting a longer holiday vacation this year," smiled the Official.

  


"Yes!" shouted Fawkes and Hobbes as they high-fived each other.

  


"Exactly, how long Chief?" asked Darien.

  


"Let's see, today is the 21st, so it starts now and concludes January 2. You shouldn't go too far Darien. You will have to come in one day to get your shot."

  


"Hey, no problem. Don't have anywhere to go anyway, 'cept my appartment, and maybe a day-trip to see my aunt and grandma."

  


"I thought she didn't like to be called 'grandma'?" teased Hobbes.

  


"She doesn't, but she's not here is she?"

  


"I'm just saying that you should always respect your elder's wishes, my friend. That's all I'm saying."

  


"Oh, shut up Hobbes."

  


"Are you two finished?"

  


Hobbes and Darien gave each a smirking expression.

"Good. You're free to go. Merry Christmas, Fawkes. Happy Hanukah, Hobbes. And a Happy New Year to you both."

  


"Thanks, sir. Merry Christmas," replied Hobbes.

  


"Yeah, Merry Christmas, Chief. Hey, Merry Christmas to you to Eberts," said Darien.

  


"Uh, thank you Darien."

  


With that, "Starsky and Hutch" left the Official's office.

  


"Hey partner, I need to head to the Keep for my shot. Your present's down there too if you wanna tag along."

  


"Of course. I got you a little something as well, my friend."

  


They chatted about the cheeriness of the fat-man as they made there way down the long, dark corridors to the Keep. As they stepped through the door they immediately stopped talking and just gaped at what they saw. There were Christmas decorations everywhere. Lights, tinsel, bows, stars, even a fully decorated tree stood proudly in the corner, complete with presents underneath. As they slowly walked in "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" began to play.

  


"Hey guys! Happy Hanukah and Merry Christmas!" shouted Claire.

  


"Wow, uh, Claire?" asked Darien, "Since when did you get to be in such a festive mood?"

  


"Oh, I don't know. One day it just seemed to, you know, hit me. Surprised you didn't I? Come on, come on. Let me give you your shot Darien, and then we can exchange gifts. Even though Alex is away on a mission she did leave something for you both."

  


Darien hopped into his chair, which was also decorated in garland and tinsel.

  


"Monroe left a gift, uh? She must be starting to like us," said Hobbes.

  


"Or she thought it was her duty," replied Darien cynically. 

  


"Oh, come on Darien. Can't you just once have a positive attitude about something? I mean, its the holidays! Be happy!"

  


"Sorry Keep. Ow!"

  


"There, all better. Now who wants gifts?"

  


With a quick exchanged glance Fawkes and Hobbes ran over to the tree and started searching for their gifts. Claire had even placed the ones they were going to give each other under the tree. Once they were satisfied that they found all the presents, they started to open them.

  


"Hold on, guys. Now Hobbes you can open yours since Hanukah is already over."

  


"Yeah!" cried a giddy Hobbes.

  


"But Darien, its not Christmas yet so you have to wait."

  


"Aw crap! C'mon Claire. Please? Not even the one from Alex?"

  


"No, Darien. Your old enough that I think you can wait. Besides, if you open them now, what will you to look forward to Christmas morning?"

  


"I guess you're right," sighed Darien. It was at that moment that a sudden wave a depression came over him. Claire was right. Besides his friends at the Agency, who was going to get him a present? His Aunt Celia didn't have much and she had already sent a card and check. It was the same situation with his grandmother. Kevin was dead, as was his mom, and his Dad was in hiding from the government somewhere. He felt suddenly alone and very depressed. 

  


After these deep thoughts Darien proceeded to watch Hobbes open his gifts. For the next few minutes anyone who would have looked in, would have seen Hobbes and Darien acting like kids. Bobby gleefully tearing off wrapping paper and admiring gifts and Darien pouting like a little boy; both being watched by the ever-cheerful Keeper.

  


"Thanks, guys! This stuff is great! Claire, how did you know I wanted a new display case for my autographed James Bond movies? Fawkes this copy of "Lock-Picking for Dummies" with the Deluxe 32-piece lock-picking set will definitely help us on future missions, eh partner? Ooo! And Alex even got me this great pen. Looks expensive. Thanks guys. You really are the greatest."

  


"Just glad you like Hobbes. Happy Hanukah," sighed Darien.

  


"Hey partner? You wanna help me play with my new lock-picking set?"

  


"Maybe later. I'm kinda tired from my shot. I think I'm gonna head out for the day. Probably catch up on some sleep. Thanks for the gifts in advance."

  


"No problem Fawkes. Hey, why don't you come with me and join my family for some holiday celebrations. We rented this great cabin in Colorado. We could go skiing, relax by a fire with hot chocolate, admire some lovely skiers of the female persuasion, if you know what I mean."

  


"Thanks for the offer Bobby, but I'd rather just relax at home this year. It's not very often that I actually get more than six hours to sleep, right?"

  


"Whatever you want partner. I'll see you when I get back alright? Now, don't do anything I wouldn't okay? Hey, Merry Christmas."

  


"Don't worry Hobbes. I'll be fine. See ya next year."

  


"See ya Fawksey!"

  


With that, Bobby skipped out the door of the keep carrying his new treasures and whistling some happy tune.

  


"Merry Christmas Darien. I'll see you in a few days right?"

  


"Uh? Oh yeah, my shot. Sure, I'll be in. Later Keep."

  


"Bye Darien."

With that, Darien collected his gifts and went straight home. After feeding Darien, the rat, he decided to call his aunt.

  


"Hey, Aunt Celia? It's me, Darien. Yeah its good to talk to you too. Anyway, I have some extra days off and was wondering if you wanted me to come down there for a day or something. Oh, I see. No no! Have a great time with your Bridge Club. It's not often that you get a chance to go the Retiree Bridge Club Championship Jamboree. Have a great time okay? And good luck! Merry Christmas to you too. Bye."

  


Darien put down the phone.

  


"The one time I want to visit my aunt she has to go and have a life. Figures. Let's try grandma."

  


Darien quickly dialed the number of his grandmother's house. When the phone stopped ringing he got the answering machine.

  


"_This is Madeliene. You've reached 343-555-5674. I'm away for the holidays, so leave a message and I'll get back to you in the New Year. Merry Christmas! _BEEP!"

  


"Hi Gran-I mean Madeliene. It's Darien. Just wanted to tell you Merry Christmas. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

  


This time Darien slammed down the phone. He began to feel even more alone, than he had in the Keep. He decided to watch tv, but couldn't find anything but Christmas movies and info-mercials. He then spied his gifts on the counter.

  


"What the heck, right Darien? It's not like their gonna know anyway."

  


Fawkes made his way to the kitchen and pulled up a stool. Very carefully he began to slowly open up his three presents.

  


"Hey, gotta make'em last," he said to himself.

  


"Let's see how about Alex first?"

  


Darien gingerly opened up the package.

  


"Ha, great. My very own copy of _Hollow Man_. Just what I need. A movie about a guy who goes invisible, then crazy, and then kills his friends. Never heard of that before. Bet its the heartfelt movie of the year! How about Claire, huh. She has good taste."

  


Darien opened his Keeper's gift next.

"Oh, even better. H.G. Wells' Classics. Looks like we've got _The Time Machine_ and _The Invisible Man._ Gee, thanks Claire. Now I can really get away from my problems this week. Okay Hobbes. You're up. I hope this is good."

  


Darien took his time opening his last gift. Certainly Hobbes would have gotten him something special. 

  


"God! I don't believe this. 'Claude Raines in the classic _The Invisible Man_!"

  


Darien through the tape on the floor. He couldn't believe that these people he thought he was so close to, knew so little about him, except that he was The Invisible Man. Even more depressed and discouraged Darien began to remember a Christmas past....

  


  


"Merry Christmas Kevin! Merry Christmas Darien!" shouted Aunt Celia and Uncle Peter.

  


"And how are my two favorite boys this morning?"

  


"Very well Aunt Celia. Thank you," replied Kevin Fawkes graciously. 

  


"Fine, thanks," uttered a tired, and somewhat incoherent Darien.

  


It was Darien's senior year in high school, and Kevin was a sophomore at college. The house was brightly decorated with tinsel, garland, lights, and wreaths, and the Christmas tree was the most beautiful they had ever seen. 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' was playing in the background.

  


"Well, come on now boys. Don't just stand there. Why don't you open your gifts. I happen to know that Santa Claus brought you both something very special this year."

  


"Oh, c'mon Uncle Peter. We've known that there's been no Santa since we were like ten!"

  


"Well, there's no need to get rude Darien. Your Uncle's just trying to have a little fun this morning. Don't be such a grinch," scolded Celia.

  


"Yeah, Darien. Be happy for once!"

  


"Shut up Kevin."

  


Peter decided that it was a good time to change the subject.

  


"Alright boys! To the tree! Who wants to help pass out the gifts this year?"

  


"Can I do Uncle Peter? If it's okay with Darien of course."

  


"Sure, Kev. Knock yourself out."

  


Darien plopped himself in the corner and Celia set herself on the sofa. Peter would read off the names on the gifts and who they were from and Kevin would hand them out. About an hour later, wrapping paper was strewn everywhere and they were all laughing and having a good time with each other, except Darien of course, who tried not to let on that he was actually starting to feel happy.

  


"Okay. I think we've exhausted almost all the uses for left-over wrapping paper. Eh, boys? Ha ha! Time for your big gifts!"

  


"Yes!" cried Darien. This was the moment he had been waiting for. His aunt and uncle almost always got him something great for his 'big' gift.

  


"Kevin first. Here you go, doctor."

  


"Uncle Peter, I'm not a doctor yet. I still have a few more years. He he!"

  


"Oh, Uncle Peter, I'm not a doctor! I have a few more years. He he he!" mimicked Darien to himself. Luckily no one but his aunt heard it and she just gave him a stern look.

  


Peter pulled out a large box and handed it to Kevin. Kevin could hardly wait to open the package.

  


"Whoa! Is this for real? A new video camera!!! This will be just what I need to record my experiments and observations! Thank you so much!!"

  


"Oh, your welcome Kevin. Now Darien it's your turn," said Celia.

  


She handed him a small package.

  


_'Okay,'_ thought Darien._ 'Small things come in good packages, right? Let's see: gift certificates, car keys, maybe a new box cassette collection...'_

  


"A 'Get Out of Jail Free Card'. Great. Where's the rest of the game?"

  


"What game?" asked Peter.

  


"Ya, know. The rest of the Monopoly game. Like the board, fake money, little metal hat? I know the camera must have been expensive, but if you guys couldn't afford to buy the whole... Uh, why are you looking at me like that?"

  


"Darien. We gave you that card to tell you that you don't have to pay us back the rest of your bail, from that incident a few months ago," said Peter solemnly. 

  


"What!? I paid half of that back already!!!" shouted Darien angrily.

  


"We know, so you don't have to pay the other half. Don't worry. You didn't get cheated. Kevin's video camera was about the same price as that last half," said Celia, desperately trying to calm the tensions in the room.

  


"Didn't get cheated? Didn't get cheated? Kev gets a new, state-of-the-art camera and I get a piece of cardboard?! This is bull-"

  


Peter cut him off before he could say anything else.

  


"Darien! Would you stop being so selfish for once? It's Christmas for God's sake. Show some respect. We thought..."

  


"I don't care what you _thought_! You thought wrong. God!! You don't even know me! You probably don't want to, anyway, and that's why you always get me crap!"

  


"Darien!" cried out his aunt.

  


"That's it. I'm gone!"

  


"Darien, you are not going anywhere! Darien, Darien!"

  


But his uncle was too late. At his last cry of 'Darien' they heard the door slam shut. Then silence. Outside, Darien was muttering and cursing to himself as he walked down the street. He didn't know where to go, but finally decided on going to visit his friend Kifton at the group home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darien sighed as he remembered those days. Looking back on it now, he could see how selfish he really had been. But that realization only seemed to make him more depressed. He checked the amount of cash in his wallet and headed out the door to one of the local bars.

  


"Merry Christmas," he muttered. "Yeah, right."

  


TBC

Feedback is appreciated!! Thanks

  


  


  



	2. Old Friend, New Opportunity

**Chapter 2: Old Friend, New Opportunity**

  


The Big Boy Bob's Bar was a place Darien usually didn't go to. Tonight, however, his depression caused him to enter the first bar he came across and this was it. The place was loud, dirty, and full of smoke. The lights were dim and it was very crowded. It smelled like crap. It too, was decorated with all sorts of decorations, all of which did not seem to help its rowdy atmosphere. Has soon as Darien had entered a fight broke causing a table to flipped and shattered glass to fly everywhere.

  


"Ahh, nothing like the Christmas spirit," he remarked.

  


Fawkes went up to counter and ordered a scotch, straight-up. He slowly drank it, and then another and another and another. On his fifth scotch a rock-type version of 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' started playing on the beat jukebox in the corner.

  


"That damn song," he slurred, "If I never hear it again it will be too soon."

  


He gulped down the last of his drink.

  


"Hey Bar-guy! Can I have three more of whatever this was?" asked Darien as he held up his glass.

  


"Three, mister?"

  


"Yeah, three. One for me, one for myself, and one for I. Got that?"

  


"Sure, buddy, but after that no more for you. Hey, you didn't drive here did ya?"

  


"Naw, I walked. Besides, my stupid company car's a piece of crap anyway, so even if I crashed it, it would prob'ly look the same anyway."

  


"Okay man. Three more scotches, hear ya go."

  


"Thanks man."

  


A few minutes later another man came in and sat down next to Darien. He was slightly shorter than Darien, with shorter hair. He was dressed in old clothes that looked like they needed a good washing too. His face was rough, like it had not been shaved in awhile, and worn, as if it had seen many bad things. He wasn't old or homeless however. Just a little worn out. He didn't seem to notice Darien sitting next to him.

  


"I'll have a rum and coke, and hold the coke," he said in a gruff and tired voice.

  


"Be right up."

  


Darien decided it was time for him to go. Even in his drunken state he knew he had had enough and decided to go home. He reached for his wallet, but his fingers weren't moving the way he wanted them to and he dropped it on the floor. 

  


"Aw, crap."

  


He bent over to pick it up and then hit is head on the counter.

  


"Aw crap," he said again.

  


This caused the gruff-looking man next to him to look over.

  


"You okay there buddy?" the man asked.

  


"I'm fine 'k? Mind your own damn business," replied Darien.

  


As Darien sat up and paid the bartender, the man got a good look at his face.

  


"Fawkes? Darien Fawkes?"

  


"Yeah. What's it to you?" slurred an angry Darien.

  


"Don't you remember me? It's Kifton. You know, Max Kifton? The Kiffer?"

  


"Max Kifton? God man, I didn't recognize you! How've you been? When did they let you out?"

  


"About a month ago. Good behavior, and the guy I robbed died and didn't press charges. Still got my good luck don't I?"

  


"I'll say! Hey, there's a free booth over there. Probably dirty as hell but why not take it. Catch up on some old times?"

  


"Sure thing pal."

  


Darien was thrilled to see his old pal from high school. Finally he had someone he could talk to, relate to, and to reminisce with. Because he was so drunk, though, and because he felt so alone, he had forgotten all the trouble Max had gotten him into. Stealing cars, robbing houses, stores, and later after high school they had pulled off some major jobs, a couple of which were done with Liz as well. The two old pals grabbed the booth and started up a lively conversation. Fawkes was right, the booth was dirty as hell, but the two didn't seem to care.

  


"So what have you been up to Max? Last thing I heard was in the newspaper when you were caught robbing some old guys house for petty cash."

  


"Well, that's basically all I had been doing, a little job here, a little one there. Since I've got out I've been keeping a low profile, but I was just contacted for a big one. Real big," Kifton whispered. "So what about you? Last thing I heard about you was front page news-'Burglar Molester of the Elderly'. It was your third strike so I figured they'd put you away forever. How'd you get out?"

  


"My brother. I made this deal with him and he got me out. Now I'm working for the Bureau of Health and Human Services."

  


"A government lacky, uh? My how things change. So what kind of deal did he make with you?"

  


"Oh nothing big. Just my soul for my freedom. Trust me, you wouldn't want to know anything else."

  


"Hey, I've always respected _your_ privacy. You know that. So why are you here, and what _have_ you been drinking. You smell like crap!"

  


"Well, I learned today that the friends I thought I had really no absolutely nothing about me and I had nothing better to do. Eight scotches, straight-up."

  


"Wow. You always could hold your liquor pretty good man. Best lock-man I have ever knew too. Hey that reminds me."

  


Kifton quick glanced around at the people near them and brought his voice down to whisper not that it would matter. Another fight had broken out and the bar was louder than ever.

  


"About that big job I mentioned earlier, I'm gonna need someone who's good with locks and alarms. Real good, better than good. I don't wanna take anyone knew. It's too risky for this. Fawkes- I want you to help me with this one. I trust you, and you're the best I know."

  


Darien stared at his friend for a minuted. Almost shocked at what he just heard.

  


"I don't know Max. I mean, it's been almost two years since I last pulled a real job. I've been trying to stay on the right path and all that crap."

  


"Listen Fawkes. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. You've cleaned up, and that's more than I could ever do. But trust me, you are the best man for this, and the payoff is gonna be huge. Besides, you said before that no one cares about you anway and you have nothing better to do."

  


"Hey, man that's not what I said. You're twisting my words."

"Fine. You may have not said _exactly _that, but that's what it sounded like to me. And don't forget, I always could read you like a book."

"I didn't even know you could read."

  


"Ha ha. Very funny. But, seriously, aren't you the least bit interested?"

  


Darien though for a minute. He thought about his grandmother and aunt and how if he got in trouble again how much it would hurt them. His drunk half took over and said,

  


"_Hey, they didn't even want to see you for Christmas anyway and that all they sent were some crappy cards and cash anyway. They really don't care that much._"

  


Then he thought of the Agency. If the Official found out would he with hold counteragent? Let him rot in that white, padded room? The drunk half took over again and told him 

  


"_So what. That stupid fat-man couldn't hold him in there forever and besides he wasn't going to find out anyway._"

  


Then he thought of Bobby and Claire. They were the ones who were always defending him. Telling everyone that he was a good, clean man now. The drunk half too over again.

  


"_But the gifts they had gotten him didn't show that. The stupid movie and books and hurt more than anything. They really don't care either._" 

  


These were the thoughts that Darien struggled with in his mind. He felt like one of those cartoons with the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. Which would he listen to? He looked Kifton straight in the eyes and then took out a pen and scrap of paper.

  


"This is my home number and address. When you call ask if its the video store. I'll tell you you've got the wrong number. Then meet me at the park at this location one hour from the call time."

  


Darien hesitated, and then handed over the paper. He could just visualize the angel having a panic attack and then keeling over.

  


"You'd better be in touch within one day or there's no guarantee that I haven't changed my mind. I'm only on vacation till January second. If it's not pulled off by then, no deal. And man, this better be as big a payoff as you say it is."

  


Max looked over the paper and smiled. 

  


"Thanks man. Video store, park, one hour. Got it. You don't know what it means to me to be back on a team with you Fawkes."

  


"Yeah well, don't go and get all mushy on me. I'm going home to sleep off some of this scotch. One day."

  


"Right man. Oh and Darien? Great hair."

  


Darien smiled and then left the bar without another word. Leaving the angel on the floor, twitching. He stumbled down the street and climbed the stairs to his apartment. He was lucky that he hadn't come into contact with any cops. An arrest for public drunkenness was the last thing he needed. Once in the apartment he locked the doors behind him and headed to the kitchen. He spied his gifts and shoved them in a cupboard somewhere. He picked up the video on the floor and shoved it in the refrigerator. Then he headed to his bed and threw himself on it, falling fast asleep. For the first time in a long while, it was a dreamless sleep, and it felt so good. And, for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to another day.

  


TBC

Feedback is appreciated.

  



	3. Dealing With the Devil

Disclaimers in part one.

Note: Haeffer High-Tech Security Alarms and Teleric Heavy Duty All Purpose Security Locks are more things I pulled out of my noggin, so don't try to look for them in stores. You can if you want, but I'm telling you they won't be there. Unless you go to the hardware store in my mind, but that's another story....

  


**Chapter 3: Dealing With the Devil**

  


The next morning Darien awoke to the harsh sound of the the telephone. Grumbling, he looked at the clock and saw that it was one in the afternoon. Fawkes dragged himself out of bed and to the phone.

  


"Hello?" he asked groggily.

  


"Hi, is this California Video?" spoke the voice on the other line.

  


"What?" Darien replied. Suddenly the events of the night before began to return to him.

  


"Oh," he said again, "no, sorry man. You must have the wrong number."

  


"Sorry, thank you," and the line went dead.

  


Darien checked the clock again and reminded himself that he had one hour to get to the park. After noticing that he was still in the same clothes as the night before and that he smelled like scotch and smoke, he decided that a shower was in order. The hot water woke him up and made him more alert. It also made him notice the pounding headache that was growing in his skull.

  


"Ah, the hangover. Worst part about drinking," he sighed.

  


He dried himself off and then headed to his closet, picking out a random shirt and pants. He then headed back to his bathroom and mixed just the right amount of hair gel and mousse and created his one-of-a-kind do. Once dressed, the grumbling in his stomach told him that it was time for breakfast, or lunch. Darien shuffled over to his kitchen and grabbed some Cinnamon Toast Crunch. When he went for the milk he noticed a video tape in the refrigerator.

  


"How the hell did that get there?" he pondered out loud, "Whatever," and he set the tape on the counter. After finishing his 'brunch' he checked his watch, 1:45pm, the calendar, December 22, and his tatoo, one red and eight green.

  


"Looks like I'm good to go, eh Darien?"

  


Fawkes fed his rat and then headed out the door. It was a quick drive to the park and he was there by 1:55pm. He parked his piece-of-crap-Agency-funded-heap-of-junk car and walked to specified location. All the while he still couldn't understand why he was doing this. Kifton was right last night when he had said that he [Darien] was clean now. Fawkes could just turn back right now and forgotten everything. Yet, something was pulling him to his old friend, back to his old life when he didn't care about anything or anyone. Back to when all that mattered was himself and not the gland, not his family, not his true friends. It was a time when he was free, and that was what Darien figured was pulling him. Walking towards Kifton, he realized how much he missed the thrill of the plan, the secrecy, and the eventual successful heist.

  


'_What the hell,_' thought Darien, '_it's only this one job. No big deal. And I might as well do something productive while I'm one vacation._'

  


At exactly two p.m. Darien was standing next to his old friend and partner in crime, Max Kifton.

  


"Didn't think you'd actually show Fawkes. Thought you'd wimp out on me or something. Glad to see your still strong."

  


"What ever Kif. Now, what's this 'big job' you're so eager to tell me about and that's so great you need the best lock and alarm man."

  


Kifton's tone turned serious, the way it always did when he explained a job.

  


"Come on. Let's sit on the bench over there."

  


Darien and Max made their way over to a nearby park bench that seemed secluded from the bike path. Once there, Max pulled out some neatly folded papers and handed them to Darien.

  


"First thing I need to know is if you can disarm those kinds of alarms and pick that brand of lock. If not that you're of no use to me and I'll send you home without another word."

  


Darien took the papers and smiled to himself.

  


"The ol' 'need to know' uh?"

  


"What?"

  


"Nevermind."

  


Darien opened up the papers and studied them. It was a detailed map of an alarm system integrated through what appeared to be a house. He carefully looked over the map and the brand of alarm, Haeffer High-Tech Security Alarms, the best in the nation. Fawkes studied the location of each control panel and the places where silent alarms, motion detectors, and heat sensors were located. Then he looked at the paper describing the type and location of the locks. There location was also marked on the first map. Teleric Heavy Duty All Purpose Security Locks, both key and combination styles. Fawkes thought carefully again. If he said he couldn't get through these, he could leave with no questions asked. Simply return to his regularly scheduled life. 

  


Then he thought again. What was so great about his regular life anyway? Why would he want to return to it? That life was just full of pain, anguish, regret, fear, depression, and more unwanted feelings. If he did this heist, it wouldn't change that fact. However, he thought yet another time, it would be a change. It would bring some happy excitement into his a dull and dreary life.

  


'_Well, the only thing constant is change, right?_' he thought.

  


He handed the papers back to Kifton.

  


"The locks will be no problem. I've done a lot of, uh, work with Teleric and I know the tricks to get them open. The Haeffer's can be pretty tricky. All the control panels have special backup systems that are wired to the company's mainframe. That means if they are disconnected without the code the company knows and they'll send out cops and a phone call to the house. But, I know a way to turn off the system and put it on a loop so that back at the company it looks like the house it still armed when it really isn't. It can takes some time and some very careful handy work, but I'm pretty sure I could make it work."

  


"How sure are you?"

  


"Oh, I don't know..."

  


"Well, I have to know Fawkes. I'm not joking about this one. It's big. Not some two-bit operation to steal some t.v.'s and a stereo."

  


"Okay, okay. Calm down. 90% sure as long as I'm given enough time."

  


"How much time?"

  


"Fifteen minutes tops."

  


"Fine. You'll have fifteen minutes. That is, if you're still interested." 

  


The whole time since handing the papers back, Darien had been staring at the ground, into space, letting his arms rest on his legs and his hands hang between them. His head was also hung down. His hangover headache made his head feel like it was going to explode. His shoulders were slumped as well. This gave the overall impression that he was either deep in thought, or getting scolded. 

  


"So, are you still interested."

  


After a few seconds, Darien began nodding his head and began to sit upright.

  


"Yeah. Yeah, I'm still interested."

  


"Good."

  


"So when do I get to hear about this great payoff?"

  


"Tomorrow."

  


"Alright. Call me. This time ask for Jim R., and I'll do the wrong number thing again. I'm always getting calls asking if 'Jim' is there. Make sure you say the last initial so I know it's you. This time make it two hours and we'll meet outside the amusement park."

  


"Sounds good. I'll tell my, uh, superior that you're in. We're gonna have fun with this one Fawkesy! Here, take these papers back and study them."

  


" 'K. I can't wait," smiled Darien.

  


With that, the two men shook hands and went their separate ways. When Darien got to his car he threw the papers on the passengers seat and started the drive home. Halfway there he laughed.

  


"Why do I feel like I just made a deal with the devil? Oh well. Too late now. 'I'm in!' "

  


His depression seemed to disappear again, as did his hangover, and he smiled the whole way home. Once there he parked his car and locked himself in his apartment. Before getting settled he checked his answering machine, (there were no new messages), and his mail (only junk mail). Then, Darien studied the map and the type of alarms and locks the rest of the night. He even forgot to eat dinner, which was very rare.

  


"Man, why did I ever give this up," he sighed happily after successfully memorizing anything and everything on the map. Just then he looked at his tatoo.

  


"Oh, right."

  


He tried not to think about it. He couldn't stand to be depressed just when he was about to something exciting.

  


"Looks like it's gonna be good Christmas after all, eh Darien?"

  


He smiled again and then laughed at himself for smiling so much. He couldn't believe how happy he was. He hid the map and papers and started dancing and strutting around his apartment, singing his little rap.

  


"Man, if dealing with the devil feels this good all the time, I should do it more often!"

  


He laughed again and headed out the door to grab some late-night Wendy's. Darien the rat stared at his owner as he left out the door. Usually calm and sad, the poor rat could not seem to understand his owner's sudden happiness. He wouldn't be the only one.

  


TBC

Feedback is appreciated.

  



	4. Bosses, Targets, and Memories, oh my!

Note: More made up stuff from me in this chapter. The "target" for the job is something I made up. I have a habit of doing that, don't I...

  


**Chapter 4: Bosses, Targets, and Memories, oh my!**

  


The next morning Darien woke up refreshed and invigorated; much unlike his usual morning depression. He smiled at the rat and decided to shower and get some breakfast. The water in the shower was nice and hot this morning which caused Darien to be happier. For breakfast he decided to have a nice simple bowl of cereal, Cinnamon Toast Crunch again. Just as he sat down the phone rang. Darien answered it with anticipation. 

  


"Hello?"

  


"Yeah, I'm looking for Jim R. Is he in?"

  


"Who? Sorry, I think you have the wrong number."

  


"Ah hell. Sorry," and the line went dead.

  


Darien checked the clock. It was only 10am.

  


"Holy crap! I was able to get myself up this early without feeling tired? Hobbes would never believe this!"

  


Just then Darien spied the video tape on the counter.

  


"Yeah, Hobbes," he sighed sadly.

  


Fawkes realized he hadn't thought of his partner in awhile. He still couldn't believe that Hobbes would have been so heartless as to give him a copy of "The Invisible Man". He shook his head again.

  


"Maybe it was a mistake," he said, trying to comfort himself. "What would Hobbes say if he knew what I was doing now," Darien laughed. "I know what he'd say," and in his best Bobby Hobbes impersonation he said, 

  


"You shouldn't be doing this, my friend. It will cause you more harm than good partner. If you wanted something exciting to do you shoulda come skiing with me. I'll tell you one thing partner-if you go through with this I'm gonna be the one the fat man chews out, seeing as how I defend you and your honesty so much. Then I'll never get that raise."

  


Darien laughed again.

  


"That wasn't half bad," he said aloud. Darien then picked up the tape and set it on top of his t.v. 

  


"Let's see," he said, glancing at the calender, "it's December 23 and I got my shot on the 21st. So, if I don't go see-through I should be fine 'til the 27th, and if I do go see-through I'll probably need to stop in the 26th. So, no need to stop in the Keep today."

  


After these little calculations Darien relaxed until around 11:30am and then decided to head down to the amusement park. The drive itself also served to relax Darien. He remembered the 'good ol' days' when he would drive to locations like this almost every other week to pick up "target" information. His friends at the agency had always took Darien for some simple, two-bit house burglar, but in reality he was quite good. Before the gland he had been well known in the world of thieves and their bosses as one of the best "lock and alarm" men. Of course he had used a code name then, which he dare not utter in front of anyone, especially someone like Hobbes, for fear of being caught by the FBI or of bringing some of his "friends" down. The kind of friends that would kill you, or hire someone to, if something happened to them. Yes, he had been good, he had been very skilled and precise. The question in the back of his head was "Am I still good enough?"

  


Fawkes reached the amusement park at 11:55am. He immediately spied Max Kifton, along with two other people he didn't recognize, and headed over to him. The smiled at each other which meant that they were going to greet each other like two old friends who hadn't seen each other in awhile.

  


"Max! It's so good to see ya man! How've you been?"

  


"Oh, I've been great Dare. It's good to see you too!"

  


The two gave each other a big hug with a pat on the back. Darien then proceded to shake the other two men's hands.

  


"Darien, this is 'Curt' and this is 'Gary'. They're two _very_ good _friends_ and _associates_ of mine."

  


"Curt, Gary, pleased to meet you."

  


"You two," they said and they smiled and nodded their heads.

  


"Hey Fawkes, I know this great little place where we can go and, uh, _catch up_. We can take my car."

  


"Sure, man. Whatever works for you."

  


The four men headed to a nearby car. It was simple car- black, of course, a Ford something or other, the kind of car Darien expected to see Tommy Lee Jones or Will Smith drive in "Men in Black". Once in side Darien noticed that the windows were heavily tinted so that it was impossible to look out and there was a divider between the back and front seats, to prevent any back seat passengers from looking out.

  


"Okay, it's safe to talk now," commented Kifton, in his best serious voice. "This is just a security measure. You know that, right Fawkes? I can't let you know the actual location, until my 'superiors' agree with me that you're the right man for the job. Okay?"

  


"Fine, Kif. You know, I have done this before? I don't need all this explanation."

  


"I'm just making sure alright? You can never be too sure."

  


"Fine, fine," Darien smiled, thinking that that was sounded like something Hobbes would say.

  


The rest of the way was driven in silence. Darien picked this time to observe his old buddy. It seemed the longer they'd been driving, the more nervous Max got. He seemed to clench his knees more with his hands and stare out the window, even though there was nothing to see. He would nervously scratch his head and wiggle his feet. Just some slight body movements that Hobbes had taught Darien.

  


"Read the body language, my friend," Hobbes had said. "Look at what the other guy is doing. Trust me partner, it will help you read his true thoughts a lot more easily."

  


Darien realized that Max must be afraid of these "superiors". He must be a pretty low man on the totem pole and that even bringing Darien to this place was a big move for him. Suddenly the slowed down and seemed to pull into somewhere. Then it stopped. 

  


"Okay, Darien. This is it. Remember, don't talk to these guys unless they ask you something. You're way to involved now to make a mistake. One mistake, you're gone, and I don't mean just from this job. Get it?"

  


"Got it Max. I'm cool." 

  


It was true. Fawkes had been able to train himself to stay very calm in situations like this. The most important thing was to look calm, calculated, and like a pro. The car doors opened and Darien stepped out. The first thing he noticed was that it looked like they were in some kind of warehouse.

  


'_Why do these things always take place in a warehouse,_' he thought to himself.

  


There was no sign of how the car got in this place, no visible exits. The four men walked down the long corrider and then about half-way down they turned and 'Curt' knocked on a door. It sounded like a normal knock, but Darien knew there had to be something special about it. Just then a type of control panel was revealed and seemed to fold out of the wall. It was small. About the size of a old computer screen. 'Gary' then typed in a code on the small panel and placed his hand on the small scanning screen next to the number panel. The door slid up and they all entered. It was another large room, almost like a waiting room. There were a few no-name just hanging around drinking some coffee and eating some donuts. They paid no attention to the little group. The four entered another room adjacent to the "waiting room". This room was empty and had another door connected to it.

  


"Geez, Kifton? How many rooms are there?" Darien smirked.

  


Max glared at Darien with a look that might even caused the Official to stop talking. The group entered this last door and were met by another group of men, all dressed in dark suits. This room was dark, with one over-hanging lamp in the middle which was shining on a simple, round table that had a large map of something folded out across the table. Fawkes knew right then and there that Kifton hadn't been kidding. He was now involved in something very big, and very dangerous.

  


"Your on time, that's a very good start Mr. Arken," said one of the dark suited men, whom Darien labeled Mr. X. 

  


Fawkes was very shocked when he realized that Mr. X was addressing him. Arken had been Darien's code name from long ago. He was surprised that anyone still knew it. He tried to maintain his air of 'cool' however. He had to stay professional. 

  


"Thank you, sir," replied Darien, who was standing very upright with his hands held behind the back. He normally wouldn't do that, but something about these guys made him more serious, and more scared than he usually was.

  


"Do you have the maps Mr. Kifton supplied you yesterday afternoon?" said Mr. X again.

  


"Yes," he pulled them out of his jacket pocket.

  


"Are they memorized?"

  


"Yes."

  


"Good. Give them to Mr. Curt."

Darien handed the maps to 'Curt' who then handed them to Mr. X.

  


You said you needed fifteen minutes to disarm the Haeffer system?"

  


"At the most, yes. I may be able to cut that time down a little. Fifteen is the most though."

  


"Good. Look at this map."

  


Darien moved slowly forward. It was a map just like the one Max had given him only it was larger and had more marks on it.

  


"This is where the main control panel is located. The system in the "target" building is the most high tech one Haeffer makes, but as you already know, they can be overridden. Some are just harder than others. Look at the schematics of the panel here."

  


Mr. X handed a paper to Mr. Curt who handed it to Darien. Darien looked at the paper and studied it. It was a detailed drawing of the inside of a Haeffer security panel. One Darien had seen and disarmed before.

  


"I've worked with a model like this before. It was about six years ago. Took me exactly ten minutes and 39 seconds to successfully disarm it."

  


"Good, Mr. Arken. Very good. You may keep that paper has a refresher. Now the Teleric locks- I've heard you've worked with those before?"

  


"Yes, several times. They're very popular with the rich."

  


"And you've had great success with them?"

  


"Always."

  


"Very good. I think you will be perfect for our team. But just for this one 'target', correct."

  


"Yes, by the way, what is this target?"

  


Fawkes' boldness seemed to shock them all, except Mr. X. Kifton was about to say something in Darien's defense, but Mr. X held out his hand to silence him.

  


"You are a very brave man Mr. Arken. A little stupid, but brave. Very well, since you are now officially on this team I guess it is your right to know what the target is. On the night of December 31st, you, Mr. Kifton and two other men will be sent to the target location- the Grafter Research Company. There you will secure this device..."

  


Darien was handed another paper through the "X-Curt" paper process. He looked at it and was obviously slightly confused.

  


"...it is a new device that Grafter has been working on. It has the ability to scramble certain molecules and rearrange them. Right now it can only scramble the molecules of non-living matter. We have a team here that is interested in working with this device and we would like to acquire this item before it grows too large to obtain easily. You see, Mr. Arken, the scientists are constantly adding on to this small device and if we wait too much longer, then it will be to late. We would like to get it now and perfect it for our use later."

  


"And what use would that," questioned Darien, which seemed to be the wrong question. Mr. Gary immediately punched Fawkes in the stomach, knocking all the air out and causing him to wince in severe pain. Mr. Gary also took away the paper on the "device" and handed it to one of the other dark-suited mystery men.

  


"That will be all, Mr. Arken. You will be contacted later by Mr. Curt when there is new information that you need to know. Until then just sit tight and keep out of trouble. That is your only assignment. Don't worry, we will be in touch before the target date and yes, what Mr. Kifton was telling you about the money is true. You will be well paid for your services. Now, I have a few more things to discuss with Mr. Kifton before you leave so please wait one room over until we are finished."

  


With that Darien, who was still a little out of breath from the punch made his way to the door. He went through and almost closed the door behind him.

  


"I think its time to do a little shooming and see what else is going on in there," whispered Darien to himself. He coated himself with quicksilver and then carefully went back through the door he hadn't quite closed. He was lucky, no one had noticed. He closed the door just enough so that it looked closed, but wasn't shut tight and he walked over to Kifton and Mr. X who were in a deep conversation.

  


"You were right to seek out your old friend Mr. Kifton. He will be perfect for this operation, and maybe more to come."

  


"Thank you, sir. But I think all he wants is just to do one more heist."

  


"Very well. However if this goes well maybe you could persuade him to become a full time member of our organization? After all, you did persuade him to come this far."

  


"I will try sir, but I cannot make any promises."

  


Darien realized that their conversation was almost over and headed back to the door. He quickly shut it tight and then de-quicksilvered. He made himself comfortable in a chair, and a few moments later Curt, Gary, and Kifton came through the door. 

  


"We can go now," was all Max said.

  


The group made there way quickly back to the "Men in Black" car. Once inside Darien felt like a weight was removed from his shoulders and he was able to relax. He could tell Max felt the same way. Darien tried to joke around a little to loosen them both up.

  


"Whew! That was like an interrogation man! How'd you get mixed up with those guys?"

"Oh, it's a long story Darien and you'd probably be bored out of your mind if I told you. I like working here, but that guy always gives me the creeps. I'm just glad I don't have to see him everyday. Hey, you wanna grab a beer or something? Do some actual catching up?"

  


"Sure man," Darien looked at his watch. It was 3pm. "How about some lunch too? I'm starved!"

  


"You never could get your mind off your stomach could you Fawkes? Where do you wanna eat?"

  


"There's this little place I know, Pancho's Taco Hut. Makes one mean enchilada. Then maybe hit a bar?"

  


"Sounds good Fawkes."

  


When the car parked and the two men were let out, they were back at the amusement park. The car was parked exactly the way it had been when Darien first saw it.

  


"We can take my car Max."

  


"Whatever works for you, man," laughed Kifton.

  


The two ended up staying out until past midnight sometime. Darien had parked his car back at his apartment before they went to the bars, that way neither of them would have the urge to drive. Darien had offered to let Max spend the night, but he declined. He said that he could catch a bus home. The two parted at Bob's Big Boy Bar. Darien laughed to himself all the way up the stairs to his apartment, and he wasn't really that drunk. He and his friend really did have a good time. They had reminisced about their high school days, their first heists, and first nights in jail. They remembered other old pals and old girlfriends. Darien entered his apartment, changed into some pajamas, and immediately went to sleep. He realized that talking with Max had done them both some good. Neither one of them mentioned their work once all night. Darien's depression meter really was low that night. He felt like a real person again, and not a science experiment. 

  


"I need to do this more often," he sighed to himself and then drifted off to sleep, dreaming something about Hobbes and donuts.

  


TBC  
Feedback is appreciated


	5. Christmas Past

Note: Sorry it took so long to get this next part up. I was away and unable to reach my computer. I hope the wait was worth it. Now, on with the story!

  


**Chapter 5: Christmas Past**

  


Darien heard nothing for the next few days. He wasn't surprised. It was just what he was expecting. Just like any other heist, after the initial meeting with the boss there was a waiting period. On Christmas Darien didn't do much. He watched "A Christmas Story" on TNT about three times in a row, and after getting sick of hearing about a Red Rider BB gun and seeing a little boy in pink, bunny pajamas he decided to take a little stroll around town. 

  


He walked the streets almost is a daze. He looked at the Christmas lights and decorations all over San Diego. On occasion he could glance through a window and spy a happy family opening gifts or eating a large turkey dinner. After aimlessly strolling the streets for about an hour, Darien found himself at the beach. He sat down on a small rock and stared into the ocean. He found himself remembering another Christmas; a memory that was much happier than his earlier memory of Kevin and his video camera and of him storming out on his only family...

  


"Christmas at the beach! We're having Christmas at the beach. Oh yeah!" sang a happy 12 year old Darien Fawkes.

  


"Geez, calm down D! It's not that exciting," smiled Darien's 14 year old brother, Kevin. Although, on the inside, Kevin was just as thrilled as his brother was. Yet, being the oldest he had to maintain _some _level of composure.

  


Their uncle was driving, with their aunt in the passenger seat humming "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" and occasionally glancing back at the two boys and smiling. Darien was doing his best not to peak under the blanket in the back of the car, which was hiding the presents. Peter Donovan had been able to secure a small, but quaint beach house through one of his friends at work, a Mr. Charlie Borden. When he had told the boys, they went crazy- chasing each other through the house, then hurriedly packing their belongings.

  


It wasn't just that it was Christmas at the beach. The boys has always spent Christmas there with their mother, but when she died, the tradition seemed to die with her. When they heard they were going there this Christmas, it seemed to them, especially Darien, that a part of her was still living on.

  


"Can we open presents first?" asked Darien.

  


"Well," said Celia, "let's get our things unpacked first. Then we can take it from there alright? Aren't you two going to be a little hungry?"

  


"I am a little hungry," spoke Kevin.

  


"No he's not! Really! It's nothing that an Eggo and some orange juice can't cure. Right Kevin? He's just kidding. He really wants to open gifts first. He told me so last night!" Darien exclaimed, quickly trying to cover for his brother's response.

  


"I guess you are right Darien. I think I might be able to make it. Besides, after we open gifts, Uncle Peter said that I could help him with one of his new experiments..."

  


Kevin smiled at his aunt. For as much as Darien could tease him, he could always tease back. After all, he was the older brother. When Kevin finished speaking, Darien's eyes got wider with joy and he fidgeted more in his seat, staring out the window to get the first glance at the beach house.

  


The ride took about two hours, but it was well worth it. Darien was the first to spot the house and the beach.

  


"Look! Look Kev! There it is! It looks just like the beach Mom used to take us to. See! The sand's all yellow and look how blue the water is!"

  


"All beaches look like that, twerp. But it is beautiful isn't it?"

  


"Okay boys," said their uncle as he parked the car. "Kevin, you take the keys and go inside. Your boys' room is upstairs. You're going to have to share one for a few nights. Do you think you can survive?"

  


Peter laughed.

  


"Sure thing, Uncle Peter. Come on Darien. Grab your stuff. Last one to the house is a rotten egg!"

  


Darien and Kevin grabbed their stuff and leaped out of the car. It seemed to be a close tie when Darien shoved Kevin into the sand, dropped his own stuff, and ran to the door of the house.

  


"You cheated Darien! When I catch you, your ass is grass!"

  


"That's if you can catch me Kevin!"

  


The two boys ran around in the sand, leaving footprints everywhere. Kevin would tackle Darien and then Darien would turn around and chase Kevin. It was when Darien tricked Kevin into falling into the water that their aunt and uncle broke up the chase.

  


"Alright boys! That's enough!" called Celia. "Into the house! As soon as you're unpacked he can open presents!"

  


"Yes!" they cried together and gave each other a high five. 

  


Kevin reached into his wet pocket and handed the key to Peter. He was soaking wet.

  


"Uh, Kevin, you might want to change first, then unpack your clothes. The bathroom is right inside."

  


"No problem, Uncle Peter!"

  


They all filed into the house, Darien barging his way through, and then went to their respective rooms. About an hour later they were all ready to open their presents. Kevin and Darien each got the most, of course, and were all pleased with the gifts they got. After opening all the gifts, the whole family seemed to be floating in wrapping paper and the boys were busy playing with the biggest of their gifts. Kevin had received a brand new, deluxe edition Chemistry set, complete with a new microscope. Darien got a new tv for his room at home, plus cable for his room too, and the new edition of Bartlett's Familiar Quotations.

  


The house was cozy. Christmas songs played in the background. Peter and Celia snuggled together on the couch with some coffee while they watched the boys and their new things. It was the perfect Christmas scene. That night, as Kevin and Darien went to sleep, Darien asked his brother a question that was of the utmost importance to him.

  


"Kevin?"

  


"Yeah, Dare?"

  


"Christmas is always gonna be like this, right? I mean, we'll always be together right and we'll always have fun on Christmas and we'll get along? I mean, that's what counts, isn't it Kev?"

  


"Yeah, Dare," Kevin yawned. "That is what matters and I'm sure we'll always be together for Christmas. I can just see us now- two old men sitting around a fire somewhere with our kids and grandkids, and we'll still be teasing the heck out of each other."

  


"Yeah, two old guys..." Darien yawned. The two brothers fell deep asleep dreaming of all their Christmases to come...

  


A distant ship horn blew and Fawkes came out of his dream-like state. He sighed. He had believed what Kevin had said that Christmas. So had Kevin, but that night neither of them had dreamt that Darien would turn into some angry-at-the-world teenager turned thief or that in several years Kevin would be killed by some terrorist in a lab in Mexico before he got the chance to grow old.

  


"Yeah, two old guys," muttered Darien. 

  


He got up from the rock and realized it was starting to get dark. While walking home he spotted a flower store that happened to be open. He bought a small poinsettia and headed over to Francine Memorial Cemetery, row five, plot two. He placed the small flower by the grave and stared at the tombstone with such a hatred that he felt like he could burn a hole in it with his eyes. After a few minutes he dropped his head and a tear came to his eye. He quickly wiped it away and tried to regain what composure he had left.

  


"Hey, I'm The Invisible Man, not Superman," he said, trying to cheer himself up, but his laugh trailed off and tapered into a slight cry of anguish.

  


"Oh, that's real funny Darien," he scolded himself. "You are such the comedian."

  


Fawkes walked away from his brother's grave without even a second look back. He found an open Wawa and bought some egg nogg. Then he headed to the liquor store and bought some cheap Vodka, or something. He really didn't pay too much attention to what was on the label.

  


"Have a Merry Christmas, sir," mumbled the obviously tired clerk.

  


"Yeah, you too," said Darien.

  


"I'm Jewish," snapped the woman.

  


"Whoa, sorry. Happy Hanukah, then."

  


The woman just responded with a cynical smile and turned her head back to the magazine she had been reading. Darien left the building and headed back to his apartment.

  


"Everyone's just _so_ happy around the holidays, aren't they?" he said to no one in particular.

  


At his apartment he took a large glass and mixed a little egg nogg with a lot of Vodka. He sat at his kitchen counter, and smelled the vile creation.

  


"Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!" he sneered and took a long gulp from the glass. After awhile he stopped adding the egg nogg and just drank from the bottle. When he realized it was empty he plopped his head down on the counter and fell asleep, the bottle still in his hand. He dreamt of Arnaud, Stark, and Kevin's death. The normal, happy Christmas dreams. That night his depression meter almost went through the roof.

  


TBC

Feedback is appreciated.

  


Just a little side note- I know this part didn't have really anything to do with the "job" but I thought it would be important if you knew how Darien spent his Christmas. I know, I know. There's so much angst, but it does give insight to his depression, at least I hope.


	6. Rushing

Chapter 6: Rushing  
  
The next morning Darien was awakened by a loud, sound. He reached over to turn off his alarm, and fell off his kitchen stool. He shook his head to gain some composure and looked around to see where he was.  
  
"Why did I sleep in the kitchen?" he questioned himself.  
  
The loud noise came again, and he recognized it as someone knocking at his door.  
  
"Hold on! Hold on, I'm coming."  
  
Darien slowly made it onto to his feet and stumbled over to his door. His head was pounding, his feet felt like rubber, and certain shapes far away appeared kind of blurry to him. He finally reached the door and opened it, about to say something to the person standing behind it, but there was no one there.  
  
"I said I was coming..." he mumbled to himself.  
  
He was about to go back inside when he realized a plain envelope at his feet. He picked it up and turned it over, but there was nothing on it. Confused, he closed his door and shuffled over to his couch and literally collapsed onto it.  
  
"Ugh.." he sighed, "Let's see what this is all about."  
  
Fawkes opened the envelope and pulled out a plain sheet of folded, white paper. He opened up the "letter" and read its contents to Darien the rat.  
  
"Haskell Park. Half an hour. Do not bring your own vehicle. Uh? Oh...oh crap. That thing with the thing. Okay, half and hour. That'll make it ten o'clock in the a.m. Plenty of time."  
  
He was about to close his eyes when he just happened to take a peek at his wrist.   
  
"Double crap!" he shouted and immediately woke up from his stupor. His tattoo read seven segments red, and only two green. With no time to shower he quickly splashed some water onto his face, threw in some fresh hair gel, and grabbed a different jacket that didn't quite smell like Vodka. He took the note, shoved it deep into his pocket, and ran out the door without another word.   
  
About thirty seconds after he left his phone rang. (The Rat let the answering machine get it.)  
  
"You've reached my number and I'm not here. Leave a message." BEEP!  
  
"Hey partner! It's me, Hobbes! Guess you're not in right now. Listen, I just wanted to let you know that I gave you the wrong gift! I got that video of "The Invisible Man" for my nephew. I hope you didn't think I got that for you! Bobby Hobbes knows his partner, my friend, and Bobby Hobbes would never be that stupid. Anyway, I'll bring your real gift home when I get back. You should have come with me partner. The skiing is great, if you know what I mean. I'll check back later, Fawkes. See ya!"  
  
About ten minutes after leaving his home, Darien arrived at the Agency. Without wasting any time, Fawkes ran inside, the door surprisingly unlocked, and high-tailed his way down to the Keep. He pounded on the door to open it, a useless act that had somehow become a habit for him, and ran over to the chair.  
  
"Keep! Keep! Counteragent, now please!"  
  
"Oh, hi Darien! I didn't see you come in. How was your Christmas?"  
  
"Uh, fine, great, splendid. Could I have my shot now, please, thank you?" he hurriedly replied.  
  
Not only was Fawkes one segment away from doing what Hobbes called, the red-eyed mambo, he was also running short on time to get to the park. He had feeling his new associates wouldn't appreciate him arriving late.  
  
"Alright Darien. Just relax. You seem like you're in a hurry," replied Claire as she tied up his arm and got the syringe ready.  
  
"What? Oh, yeah, well, I'm going to see this movie and I don't want to miss the previews, you know? Ow!"  
  
"There, all done! Listen Darien, before you go there's something I need to talk to you about."  
  
Darien glanced at his watch. It was 9:46am. He had until 10am to get to the park.  
  
"Uhm, sorry Claire, but it's gonna have to wait," he said inching himself to the door, "I really need to get a move on. I'll talk to you later okay? See ya! Bye!"  
  
"But Darien, it's about..." she shouted after him.  
  
While talking, he had managed to back himself out the Keep door and into the hall. When the door closed he raced back out the building, locking the door behind him. He didn't want anyone sneaking in on Claire.  
  
Back in her lab, The Keeper was still standing holding the empty syringe in a state of shock. She had never seen Darien move that fast. Or, for that matter, run out on her when she had something important to say to him.  
  
"...Adam," she whispered to herself. "That must be one good movie," she sighed to herself, and sat back down at the computer.  
  
Remembering that he couldn't take his own car, and with no time to waste, Fawkes parked his Agency hunk-o-crap about two blocks away and then ran to the park. He got there just in time; his watch read 9:57am. Panting and out of breath, Darien looked around for Max and the other men he was supposed to meet. He spotted them and began to make his way over in a slow jog, when all of a sudden something hit him hard in the back of his head. Darien fell to the ground in a small heap, unable to call for help. He peered around to see a man in a dark suit standing over him with some small, blunt object, but before he could make out a face he passed out.  
  
'Aw crap,' was his last thought.  
  
TBC  
Feedback is appreciated. 


	7. Final Plans

Chapter 7: Final Plans  
  
Darien slowly began to regain consciousness. He had no idea where he was or who had taken him and, needless to say, was very confused. As he slowly became aware of his surroundings, Darien realized that he was tied to a chair. He also started hear voices arguing close by.  
  
"You idiot! Why didn't you tell us he worked for the government?!"  
  
"I didn't think it was a big deal sir. I checked up on it. He works for some cheap division of Health and Human..."  
  
"Enough! You are right Mr. Kifton. You didn't think! Any government agency, no matter how small, is not to be involved in any way, shape, or form with this operation! Who knows, he may have already squealed to his superior about us!"  
  
"I'm not a squealer," mumbled Darien. He was beginning to come full around.  
  
"What did you say?" It was Mr. X, and the man he had been arguing with was Max.  
  
"I said," spoke Darien calmly, while straightening up in the chair, "I said, I'm not a squealer. I'm also on vacation and haven't seen or spoken to my boss since last friday. Besides, if he knew anything about this he would have already flooded this place with agents."  
  
"Oh really? Why should I believe you, Mr. Arken?"  
  
Mr. X walked slowly to Darien and stopped right in front of him.  
  
"Well, I've never lied to you before, have I?"  
  
Mr. X laughed and shook his head. He began to turn around and then immediately whipped back towards Darien and punched him hard in the stomach. The chair Darien was sitting in fell on its back, taking Darien with it. For an older looking man Mr. X had a great deal of strength. Mr. X straightened his suit and walked over to Darien, placing his foot on Fawkes' chest and pressed down hard. Darien gasped for air.  
  
"You are a clever one, aren't you?"  
  
Mr. X pressed down harder until Darien almost passed out. Suddenly, he released his foot.  
  
"You can stay on this assignment Mr. Arken, but only because I know you have the reputation of being an excellent thief. You will take Mr. Kifton with you wherever you go, and if he, or anyone else suspects you of crossing us, well, you won't have to worry about returning from your vacation. Understood?"  
  
Darien nodded yes. He still was gasping for air and was unable speak any words.  
  
"Good. You will be briefed on our current mission status and then released, with Mr. Kifton at your side. I should not have to have any contact with you until this mission is complete."  
  
With that, Mr. X turned and left the room, without another word. The door slammed loudly behind him. Max immediately ran over to his old friend's side.  
  
"Sorry, Darien. I didn't mean to put you in this position," Max said.  
  
"Yeah well, could you at least help me up. I have a back condition and this 'position' isn't helping," snapped Darien.  
  
"Alright, sorry."  
  
Max leaned down and slowly straightened up the chair. He then pulled out a small pocket knife and cut the duct tape that was holding Darien in place.  
  
"There, feeling better?"  
  
"Well, as soon as those little birds stop flying around my head I think I'll be fine."  
  
"Listen, Fawkes. I really didn't mean to get you into trouble. I didn't know that they were so concerned with Health and Human Services."  
  
"I guess there just overly cautious," sighed Darien as he rubbed his head.  
  
"Hey man. Cool tattoo. When did you get that?"  
  
Darien quickly put down his arm and tugged down the sleeve on his jacket.  
  
"Oh, just one of those times I got out of prison. It's not really that good a job anyway. Hey, aren't we supposed to go get briefed or something?"  
  
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Follow me."  
  
The two men left behind the cold, cement walled room and entered a hallway. Max knew exactly where he was going. Darien followed, looking at everything he could get his eyes on. It made him look like a lost dog following some unsuspecting citizen. Darien noticed that nothing looked that high tech. The hallway was basically the inside of a warehouse, and the doors to all the rooms were very well hidden. They finally stopped and Max knocked on a panel on the wall. The door opened and the two were quickly ushered inside. It looked like a plain, government briefing room. A large round table sat in the middle of a small room. It was the only piece of furniture that Darien noticed. About seven men were standing around the table, staring at the building plans that were sprawled across it. Fawkes recognized no one. Max began introducing him.  
  
"Gentlemen, this is Arken. He'll be our lock and alarm man. Arken, these two are Smith and Jones. They are our get-away drivers," said Max, pointing to two seemingly regularly looking men standing the closest to Darien. They nodded. Max continued.  
  
"These men over here are our scientists for this mission: Sommers, Hauke, and Boldger. They're going to make sure our 'package' is safe and secure during the assignment."  
  
The three men reminded Darien of The Lone Gunmen, from the X-Files, but he thought it best to keep that observation to himself.  
  
"The last two are Scott and Barbie. They are our guard men."  
  
"Nice to meet you," Darien said two the roughest looking men of the bunch.  
  
"Scott and Barbie was it?" Darien asked again, trying to hold back his laughter.  
  
"Yeah," said Barbie, in a low and gruff voice. "We make sure that if anyone sees us, they ain't gonna see nothing else, ever."  
  
Darien nodded and moved farther away from the two "guard men".  
  
'I feel safer already,' thought Darien.  
  
"Right. Now that we're through with the introductions, let's begin," said Max.  
  
Darien was quickly realizing that his old buddy was in charge of this mission, which also meant that anything that went wrong would be Max's fault.  
  
"The building next door labeled here," Max pointed to a spot on the papers on the table, "will be our base. It's for sale right now, so there isn't much security around it. Any guards that we do find will be taken care of by Scott and Barbie."  
  
The two men nodded.  
  
"Arken will then proceed to the back entrance of the building where the outdoor security panel is located, as shown here. Then he's gonna do his thing. Got it?"  
  
Darien nodded.  
  
"Once the outside panel is disarmed he will then proceed to unlock this door here and the rest of us will enter."  
  
"One thing," interrupted Fawkes, "once the outside panel is out we'll have about 20 minutes to get inside and for me to disarm the main security panel. Now that will take me, oh, about 15 minutes, maybe a little less. I have to put the panel on a loop so that the security station at Haeffer, where this thing is hooked up to, won't realize that there's anything wrong. So, if I'm gonna do this in enough time..."  
  
"Those back doors shouldn't give you trouble. They're simple locks, and besides, we have keys for them."  
  
Darien shot a confused look at Kifton.  
  
"Don't ask. It's need to know. Anyway, the main security panel is located here on the first floor in the main office," interrupted Max. "We have an insider who is going to leave that door unlocked to save us time, but just in case it's not, the lock is your basic lock. Nothing you can't open with a pen."  
  
"Good," thought Darien, still slightly confused about where they got the keys from. Max continued.  
  
"Once the alarm system is under control we shouldn't have to worry about heat sensors, motion detectors, cameras, etc. The device we're after is located on the seventh floor in an isolated room located here. The Teleric locks are located on the doors to that room. Make sure you bring your good lock-picking kit with you, Arken. Once you have those doors open there is another alarm system, separate from the main one, protecting the device. Sommers, Hauke, and Boldger have been studying this system for awhile and they know how to disarm it without hurting the device. They'll do their science thing and secure the package. There is one thing we can't control and that's that once the device is missing from its position for 6 minutes an automatic phone call will be made to the CEO of the corporation. We've been trying for months to track where that phone call comes from, but without any luck. So, get your asses out of there ASAP. Head immediately back to the base location, pack up your stuff, and then Smith and Jones will drive you guys out of there. Okay that's it boys. We'll see you on New Year's Eve. The meeting location will be provided to you that morning. You're dismissed."  
  
The men took one last look at the building plans and filed out of the room mumbling to each other. Darien also took another look at the map.  
  
"So, Kifton, what's your job?"  
  
"This part is my job. I'm not going with you on the thirty-first. I'm just the planner of the operation."  
  
"Hmm, pretty important huh?"  
  
"I guess you could say that. Now, let's get out of here. This place gives me a headache."  
  
"I'm with you. So, Max, do you really have to follow me everywhere 'til this whole secret mission thing is over?"  
  
"'Fraid so Fawkes, but hey. Think of it as a sleep-over! I have to clean up some stuff before we go so just head out into the hallway and wait for me there."  
  
"Sure man."  
  
Darien left the room, checked to see if anyone was around, and then quicksilvered. He wanted to see if Max had to have another meeting with Mr. X. He slipped back in the room. Max was there, folding up the map and tucking it under is arm. He double checked the room to see if everything was in order. Then he headed to the door and left, with Darien following quickly behind. While Max was locking the door, Darien shed the quicksilver, without being noticed. Max turned around and almost jumped.  
  
"Geez Fawkes! Don't sneak up on people like that. You're bound to send them to an early grave."  
  
"Sorry," Darien chuckled. "Hey let's get some food before we head back to my place."  
  
"Sounds great, I'm starved. Any place in mind?"  
  
"I know this little food stand my buddy from work and I always eat at. 'Wadja's Eats'. They have some killer mayonnaise."  
  
"Whatever Fawkes. You always did have a weird taste for food."  
  
The men then left the warehouse, in a tinted car, and were dropped off back at Haskell Park. They got their sandwiches, with green tomatoes, and then headed back to Darien's apartment to watch some movies.  
  
Darien didn't bother to check his messages on the answering machine. 


	8. Suspicions

Chapter 8: Suspicions  
  
The next few days that passed by were pretty much non-eventful. Max stayed with Darien twenty-four hours a day, just like he was told, and the two men basically played video games or watched movies. Darien finally did check his answering machine messages, but when he had tried to call Hobbes back there was no answer.  
  
'Probably out discussing the 'textile' industry again,' Darien thought.  
  
It was on December 30 that Darien realized he'd forgotten something very important. He and Max were playing a new snowboard racing video game when the thought came rushing back to him. Out of the blue he dropped his remote, shouted "Aw crap", and then ran to his closet and began rushing through his things. Max stared at him in wonder.  
  
"Uh, Fawkes?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What the hell are you doing?"  
  
At that moment Darien pulled a brand-new basketball out of his closet. It was still even in the original box.  
  
"Aha!" Darien said in delight.  
  
"Aha, what?" asked Kifton.  
  
"I forgot to give this Christmas present," Darien grabbed his black leather jacket and headed towards the door.  
  
"Excuse me, Mr. Fawkes, but where do you think you're going?"  
  
"I need to go deliver this."  
  
Max stared at him.  
  
"Oh, yeah," said Darien, "Wanna come along?"  
  
"It would be my pleasure," smirked Kifton and the two men left the apartment.  
  
As soon as they left the apartment the phone rang, (of course). It was the Keeper.  
  
"Hi Darien. It's me Claire. Listen there's something really important I need to tell you. I've tried you on your cell phone, but I guess you don't have it on. Could you please call me back right away? This is very important. I'll be in my, uh, 'office' if you want to call me there. Please call me back Darien. Bye."  
  
Meanwhile in the Keep...  
  
Claire almost broke her phone by slamming it down so hard.  
  
"Bloody hell, Darien!" she cried out in anger. "Why is it that whenever I don't want to speak to him he's always around, breaking beakers, shedding quicksilver all over my desk, asking me annoying questions, but, whenever I do need to talk to him I can never find him! Argh!!"  
  
Claire threw herself down in her chair. Just then the phone rang.  
  
"If this isn't Darien, I swear..."  
  
She picked up the phone.  
  
"What!" she yelled into it.  
  
"Whoa! Take it easy their, Claire. It's just me, Bobby."  
  
"Oh, sorry Bobby. I thought it was Darien."  
  
"Fawkes? You can't reach him either?"  
  
"Well, I saw him the other day for his shot and he was in such a hurry that I couldn't even say two words to him!"  
  
"Hurry? Did he say where he was going?"  
  
  
  
"Something about not wanting to miss a movie, or something. You said you haven't reached him either?"  
  
"Yeah. I called him a few days ago. I gave him the wrong gift and I wanted to apologize, but he wasn't there. I've called him back a few other times and he wasn't there, but I didn't leave a message."  
  
"Uh. That's odd. He's usually never out of his apartment that much, except when he's with one of us. It's strange."  
  
"Maybe I should come back early. Ya know, check up on him?"  
  
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it Bobby. You shouldn't have to come back from your vacation early. Darien probably just met up with an old friend and is just catching up with them or something."  
  
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of, my friend. You know how depressed he gets around holidays and I don't want him..."  
  
"Listen Bobby. Please don't get paranoid about this. Enjoy your time off, alright? I'll see you in a few days."  
  
"Okay Claire. Whatever the doctor orders."  
  
"Oh and Bobby?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Behave yourself."  
  
"Yes, doctor."  
  
"Bye, Bobby."  
  
"Bye Claire."  
  
The Keeper hung up the phone and thought for a moment.  
  
"Where could Darien be going?" she said aloud.  
  
"Oh, stop being so paranoid, girl! You'll start turning into Bobby."  
  
Claire decided to get her mind off of the whole situation by getting some work done. Yet, she still couldn't help but wonder what Darien was up to, if anything at all. 


	9. Second Thoughts

Chapter 9: Second Thoughts  
  
Fawkes and Kifton pulled up to what seemed like a small shack in the middle of nowhere.  
  
"Okay, now where are we going?" asked Kifton.  
  
"This is it," Darien replied.  
  
"I think I'm confused," stated Kifton as he looked around.  
  
"Well, you see this person this gift is for, is kind of a loner, you know," Darien was lying through his teeth, but he was doing a pretty good job of it, "He's kind of in hiding right now too, so just don't tell anyone 'k?"  
  
"No problem man. I trust you. But hey, why'd you get him a basketball?"  
  
"Well, he's kind of a sports freak, especially when it comes to basketball. Thought it would give him something to do. Wait here. I'll be right back."  
  
"Sure man."  
  
Darien stepped out of the car, closed the door, and walked over to the small shack. He went inside, quicksilvered, and peeked back out to see if Max was staying put. Satisfied that his friend wasn't going anywhere, Darien closed the door and shed the quicksilver and walked over to the elevator. Monroe had been able to get him clearance so that he could go and visit Adam now and then. Darien placed his hand on the panel, type in the code Monroe had given him, and watched the elevator doors open. He stepped inside the small metal container and took the long trip down. Finally it stopped and the doors slid open. The long, white corridors and dentist-office atmosphere were the same as they had been when Darien had last gone to see Adam. We walked down the familiar path to Adam's room and was stopped half-way by one of the doctors.  
  
"Excuse me, Agent Fawkes. Can I help you?" asked the man.  
  
"Oh, I'm just going to see Adam Reese."  
  
"I'm sorry Agent Fawkes, but this really is not a good time."  
  
"It'll just be for a second, okay? I just want to give him this," Darien held up the basketball.  
  
The doctor sighed, "Alright Agent Fawkes, but please make it quick."  
  
"No problem," Darien said and he sprinted the rest of the way to Adam's room.  
  
Darien opened the door and looked inside before entering. Everything looked the same. It was a plain room without much furniture. A small, stiff chair sat next to Adam's cryopod. Darien walked over slowly and looked inside at Adam. Darien thought he looked very peaceful. He sat down in the chair and held the basketball.  
  
"Hey Adam. Uh, it's me Fawkes. I hope you're doing good. I mean you have to be, I guess, but anyway,"  
  
Darien didn't seem to know what to say. Then he remembered the basketball that he held in his hands.  
  
"Oh, hey. I bought you a Christmas present. I didn't wrap it, but I don't think you'll mind. It's a basketball. A good one, regulation size and all that. I can teach you how to hit those lay-ups. I mean your's really isn't that bad, but you know. Hey, Eberts got another cool game, a new car racing one, so you'll have to learn that and the snowboard racing when you wake up."  
  
Darien looked around and made sure no doctors, or anyone else was around. He moved the chair closer to Adam.  
  
"Listen Adam. There's something I want to tell you. Tomorrow night I'm going to be doing something. Something I haven't done in a long time, but I hope you can understand that this is something I have to do. But listen to me Adam, when you get out of this thing, and you will, I don't want you following the same path I did. Okay, I know this sounds cheesy and very cliché, and not like something I would normally say, but trust me on this."  
  
Just then Darien was interrupted by the doctor.  
  
"I'm sorry Agent Fawkes, but I'm afraid you'll have to leave now."  
  
"Oh, okay," said Darien, obviously startled by the doctor's interruption, "Uhm, well, I'll guess I'll see you later, Adam. Remember what I said, okay pal?"  
  
Darien tapped the cryopod with his hand, nodded to the doctor, and left the room. As he walked out he thought about what he had said to Adam. That's when he began to have second thoughts. What was he doing? He had an honest life now. So it wasn't perfect: his partner was paranoid, his boss was intolerable, he didn't make much, and he had a biosynthetic invisibility gland that belonged to the US Government stuck in his head which turned him into a drooling psychopath every six days, unless he got a shot. But it was an honest life. He didn't like lying to his only friends and, as he walked into the elevator, he realized that he really didn't like hanging with his old crowd. Darien thought he could have been the same, but they weren't. He wasn't getting the same thrill that he used to get when he planned a heist. As he felt the elevator pull him up he realized he could easily get away from Max, a la quicksilver, get over to the Agency and tell the Official what was going on, and if he wasn't there, Claire would be. Yet, he did have his loyalty to Max. He couldn't just let those mysterious dark-suited men do who knows what to them if this mission failed. He had to stick with it. After that he would live his thieving past behind them. For good. Darien left the shack and walked back to the car. He slammed the door shut and started the engine.  
  
"Everything go okay in there?" Max asked.  
  
"Yeah fine," Darien said, "Wanna get something to eat?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
The car drove off, leaving the shack behind. 


	10. The Heist

Chapter 10: The Heist  
  
The next day, Darien practiced opening some Teleric brand locks and rewiring a fake Haeffer security panel. He had the feeling that if he screwed this job he would not have to worry about another one for the rest of his life, and he knew that was a bad thing. Max timed him. By the end of the day Darien knew the skills by heart. It was one hour before he had to leave that Darien started to get nervous. He paced back and forth across his apartment floor and mumbling his alarm procedure over and over to himself. His rat paced with him.  
  
"Easy Fawkes. You're bound to fall through the floor," joked Max.  
  
"Uh? Oh, sorry," Darien sat down on the couch, "It's just that..." he paused.  
  
"...you haven't been on a big job like this in awhile and you're a little nervous. I understand. Remember that time we hit that business up on 37th street? I think I was so nervous that I was sweating for a week before and after!"  
  
"Man, how old were we? Twenty-two, twenty-three? It seems like forever ago."  
  
"I know. Listen pal. Just take it easy. This job we'll be over before you know it. Here read a book."  
  
Max tossed him the copy of The Time Machine that Claire had gotten him for Christmas. Truth be told, Fawkes was nervous, but not about the job. He knew he could handle it, easy. What he was nervous about was that Hobbes and the Keeper would find out. Not that they would tell the Official, but because he would lose the trust with them that had taken two long years to build. He felt like he was disappointing them, like a piece of himself would die whenever he would look at them and lie about his Christmas vacation, and they wouldn't even know. That is what was really bothering him. Not that he would tell Max. There was no way Max would understand. Darien couldn't remember if Max even had friends that weren't involved in some sort of illegal operation. Darien pushed these thoughts aside. He couldn't worry, not right now. He had to concentrate on the night ahead of him. Fawkes decided to start reading The Time Machine. As he started reading through it he realized he was beginning to really enjoy it. All of a sudden, Max woke him from his trance.  
  
"Time to go."  
  
"Already?"  
  
"What do you mean already? You've been reading that damn book for the past forty-five minutes."  
  
"Huh," Darien scratched his head and marked his place.  
  
"Have fun. I'll be leaving here in a few minutes. The other men will drop you off at the park after the job," Max  
  
"Thanks. Uh, bye," Darien gave a little wave and headed out the door.  
  
"Good luck!" Max called out.  
  
Darien closed the door behind him. There was no turning back now.  
  
Darien took an unusual route to get to the base building, just to make sure no one was following him. When he got there, all the other men were in their gear and ready to go. Darien changed into his "uniform" as soon as he arrived. When they were ready to start, Fawkes noticed some different faces and figured they were there for extra security.  
  
The men waited in silence for a few minutes, waiting for someone to give the orders. Finally one of the scientists, Hauke, started addressing the group.  
  
"Alright. Smith, Jones. Make sure the car is warmed up and ready to go. I will radio you when the package is safe and secure. Scott, Barbie, keep a close lookout. Very close. Sommers, Boldger, is our gear ready?"  
  
The two men nodded.  
  
"Arken...Arken...Arken!"  
  
Darien had been looking around the building and not paying too much attention to the little science nerd.  
  
"Oh, sorry. What?"  
  
Hauke sighed and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Are you ready?"  
  
"Ready? Oh yeah. I'm fired up, all set, on my mark. Hey there's the green flag! Let's go, go, go!"  
  
"Right," Hauke rolled his eyes again, "Face masks down gentlemen. We're moving out."  
  
The group of men made their way out of the building. Smith and Jones stayed behind to study the escape route map, and a few of the new faces stayed with them. There was absolutely no talking anymore. Hauke directed everyone with hand signals. The group made their way to the back of the target building and found the outside security panel. Hauke motioned to Darien. It was time for his work to begin. Carefully, Darien unlocked and opened the panel. The inside was exactly what he had thought it would. He double checked the current placement of all the wires to make sure everything was where it should be. After confirming to himself that it all looked normal he began rewiring the circuitry.  
  
'All right, Fawkes. Just take it easy, get through this, and then you can go home and call the cops," he thought, 'NO! Not the cops, HOBBES! You're going to call Hobbes. Yeah, good, old Bobby Hobbes. Now, the blue wire goes into the slot which is parallel to the gray button on the left hand side of the lower right section. Voila! Good, no alarms so far. Now, Take the pale green wire and place it in the upper left corner of the fourth quadrant in the middle. NO! The FIFTH quadrant! The FIFTH one! Come on, man. Pull it together. Okay the pale green wire goes in the upper left corner of the FIFTH quandrant in the middle. Now, take the ends of the black and yellow wires, tie them together, and place them right behind the wiring of the red button in the first quadrant. Bingo! You da man! Who's the man? Oh I believe that would be me. Yes, I am the man!"  
  
Darien closed and relocked the panel. He slowly turned to Hauke and gave the thumbs up. Just then, a figure started coming towards them, with a flashlight.  
  
"Hey! Who's there?" the man yelled out, "Come out of their you little punks or I'll call the police!"  
  
It was an older man, around the Official's age, but much thinner. He was in a jogging suit and was coming closer. All Hauke had to do was look at Scott and Barbie. The two "guards" walked calmly towards the old man. They reached him and immediately knocked him down. The covered his mouth so he could not cry out and then proceeded to unmericilessly beat him. Darien couldn't bear to watch and turned and faced the building wall. It what seemed like an eternity, the old man stopped struggling and stopped breathing. Scott and Barbie dropped his lifeless body on the ground and rejoined the others. Hauke motioned for them to go to the side door. He looked at the obviously shaken up Darien and whispered.  
  
"It's his fault anyway. What kind of guy jogs this time of night anyway?"  
  
Somehow, Darien didn't find that reassuring. Fawkes performed the rest of his tasks without thinking. The situation with old man seemed to take away all his thoughts about what was going on. They made their way over the outside entrance and Hauke handed Darien the key. Sure enough, it worked. They quickly proceeded over to the main office where the main security panel was located. The office was open, just like Max and said it was. Darien made his way inside and with almost unsettling accuracy disabled the main security panel in what seemed like no time at all. He waited a few seconds before addressing his "team mates".  
  
"We're clear," he said with a huge sigh of relief.  
  
"Perfect," said Hauke, "It's off to the seventh floor men. Why don't we take the elevator."  
  
The whole group headed to the main hall, pressed the button, and waited for the elevator to come down. Darien didn't think anymore. He didn't want to. All the life seemed to be drained out of him and became another trained robot of this "Mr. X", as Darien called him. Everything that was happening seemed like it was part of dream. There was one thought that kept popping back into his head: he had let that man die. He had turned his back on him and essentially ignored it. Every time that evil, little thought came into his head, he pushed it out. This was not the time, nor the place, to reflect on what had happened. He would save it for later. The elevator beeped, and the door opened.  
  
"Let's go gentlemen," said Hauke and the whole crew climbed into the unusually small space.  
  
  
  
They went up calmly listening to the somewhat annoying elevator music. The three scientists were chatting about their upcoming part in the assignment and Scott and Barbie were chatting about what they had had for dinner the night before. Darien leaned against the wall, sulking in the corner with his arms crossed. He just wanted to get out of there and go home. He had just realized why he had preferred doing solo jobs. The elevator beeped. They were on the seventh floor. They walked in a line down a small corridor and stopped right in front of a thick, steel door labeled 'Room 713'. Darien immediately spotted the Teleric lock adourning the outside. He didn't have to ask. Darien reached into the small backpack he was wearing and pulled out a nice looking, soft case. He carefully opened it and carefully looked at the shining lock-picking tools inside. They were Darien's pride and joy, of thieving that is. He had always washed them after every job to keep them new, and to try and remove any evidence, of course. After making sure all the pieces were accounted for he selected a dinner knife sized tool with a hook on the end, and a wire thin, straight tool. It didn't take very long before he heard the right 'click'. Darien went back into his case and selected another large object with a hook. A few wiggles and bends and 'POP', the lock was off.  
  
"Good job, Arken. Your part is done. Now you rest easy."  
  
"Whatever," Fawkes replied, and he carefully placed his tools back in their case and then secured the case in his backpack. He started to enter the room when Scott stopped him.  
  
"They want you to wait here. You're not allowed to see the 'package'."  
  
Darien shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the opposite wall. Hell, the less he knew, the better. Fifteen minutes later Hauke, Sommers, and Boldger, followed by Scott and Barbie, came running out of the room.  
  
"Five minutes, 48 seconds encounting! Let's move!" Hauke cried.  
  
This time the troupe didn't wait for the elevator, but flew down all seven flights of stairs. In an amazing two minutes and 57 seconds they were back in the main lobby. The men raced out the same door they had used as an entrance and ran outside. When they got outside Darien noticed that the body of the old man was no longer there.  
  
"Uh, hey, guys?"  
  
"There's no time Arken. We've gotta moved," Hauke yelled at him.  
  
"Yeah, but, uh, where's the body?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The old man. Where's the body?"  
  
"Who cares? Maybe he wasn't dead to begin with. Now let's go. I've already alerted Smith and Jones. They're waiting for us on the other side of the base building. Fastest way is to go right through it. Come on."  
  
The men ran through the base building and were directly in the middle when they heard,  
  
"FEDERAL AGENTS! HANDS IN THE AIR! NOW!"  
  
They were suddenly surround by feds on all sides. Without hesitation the men drew out guns and started firing. The feds fired back. Darien hit the ground, injured. A stray bullet had found its way into his leg somewhere. Another hit him in the shoulder. He reached up with his good arm and felt the warm, sticky blood that was starting to slowly poor out of his shoulder, dangerously close to his heart. He reached down and felt the same warmth and stickiness oozing from his leg.  
  
"Aw crap...," he moaned, "Why didn't I get a gun?"  
  
The gunfire seemed to stop as soon as it had started. Darien looked up and the federal agents subdoing his former "teammates". In a split second there was a fed on his own back, pressing a gun into his head.  
  
"HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE'EM PUNK! NOW! SLIDE'EM UP THERE!"  
  
"Hey, I'm injured man. Can you call an ambulence?" Darien's voice was muffled and stuck behind the floor and his face mask. He was also losing consciousness and couldn't seem to clearly make out the voice that was screaming at him.  
  
"I'LL CALL AN AMBULENCE WHEN I'M GOOD AND READY HOTSHOT. ARE YOU ARMED?"  
  
"No," replied softly, "but I am having trouble breathing."  
  
"YEAH, WELL YOU'RE ALSO BLEEDING ALL OVER THE FLOOR SMART ASS. THESE STAINS ARE NEVER GONNA COME OUT."  
  
"Can...I...turn around...and take off...this mask...so that I...can breathe?" Darien whispered. He was starting to have severe problems with his breathing and was feeling extremely dizzy on top of it. Darien had lost all sense of what was going on around him. All that existed for the moment was Darien, himself, and the on top of him.  
  
"ALRIGHT PUNK. BUT ANY FUNNY STUFF AND YOU'RE GONNA REALLY BE WISHING FOR THAT AMBULENCE."  
  
The man helped Darien turn over and slid off his mask.  
  
"Fawkes?!!"  
  
Darien slowly forced his eyes to focus on the man staring at him. It was Hobbes. Darien coughed.  
  
"Hey partner," he said weakly.  
  
"What the hell are you doing here? Aw hell Fawkes! You're bleeding partner! AMBULENCE! I NEED AN AMBULENCE NOW!!!! Take it easy partner. Breathe in and out. In and out. That's it you're gonna be just fine. And, as soon as your little punk-ass gets healed, I'm gonna kick it again and make you tell me what you're doing here. WHERE'S THAT AMBULENCE??!!!"  
  
"It's on its way sir," someone called out.  
  
"So, how was your...vacation?" Darien mumbled. Hobbes was busy staunching his partner's wounds and making sure Fawkes hadn't been shot anywhere else, but the leg and shoulder. He really wasn't paying attention to what Darien was saying.  
  
"Uh, oh yeah it was fine. IS THAT AMBULENCE HERE YET?" Hobbes screamed again.  
  
"It just pulled up now, sir."  
  
Darien could barely hear the sirens.  
  
"How...did you get...here?" questioned Darien.  
  
"Hmm? Hey, buddy I'll explain everything later, but right now your chariot awaits."  
  
"Hobbes, what about...the quicksilver in my blood stream. If I go to the hospital..." The exertion sent Darien into a coughing fit.  
  
"Hey, there. Take it easy Fawkes. I'll call Claire and tell her what's up, okay? Just enjoy the ride. I'll be following right behind."  
  
Just then, the EMT's came over and loaded Darien onto a stretcher. They took his vitals, quickly patched his wounds and gave him some oxygen. The last thing Darien saw was Hobbes' worried expression. Then, he passed out. 


	11. Recovery

Chapter 11: Recovery  
  
The first thing Darien felt was the warm, soft hospital bed he was laying. The first thing he heard was the beeping of a heart monitor. As he slowly opened his eyes was the blurry vision of...  
  
"an angel?" he whispered out loud.  
  
"Uhm, no. Doctor? I think Agent Fawkes is coming around."  
  
Darien noticed who was speaking.  
  
"Eberts?!"  
  
The mild mannered Agency clerk smiled and nodded at Darien and stepped away as Claire came over to the bedside.  
  
"Well, well. How is our little thief this morning?"  
  
"Thief? Hey I didn't steal anything."  
  
"I was referring to your former occupation, Darien. Not to the episode that occurred two weeks ago."  
  
"I knew that," then it hit him, "Two weeks! I've been out two weeks?"  
  
The heart monitor started beeping faster.  
  
"Calm down Darien. Think of it as a vacation. You were out two weeks because of all the blood you had lost, and because of the location of the bullet in your shoulder. We couldn't have you moving all around so we kept you sedated."  
  
"You wouldn't have happened to remove the gland while I was under, did you?"  
  
"Sorry, Darien, but no."  
  
"Never hurts to ask."  
  
"Hey, hey, hey! Where's that punk partner of mine?" Hobbes came rushing into the room.  
  
"Hobbesy! Took you long enough to get here. Uh, by the way, where is here anyway?"  
  
"At the Agency," Claire replied, "After confirming that I was your doctor the ER doctors at the hospital you were taken to let me observe the operation. As soon as you were stable enough they let me take you back here. And I managed to switch your blood sample, that contained the quicksilver of course, with Bobby's. Did you two know you were the same type?"  
  
"No," Hobbes answered, "but I'm sure that's gonna come in pretty handy in the future. Oh, Fawkes! I almost forgot, but I brought you your real Christmas present. I'm really sorry for the mix-up. I knew I shouldn't have wrapped my presents in non-denominational holiday paper this year."  
  
"Don't worry about it man. I figured it must have been some sort of mistake."  
  
Darien had to force down the guilt that was starting to swell up inside of him.  
  
"Well, close your eyes?"  
  
"Do I have to?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What, you can't just hand it to me?"  
  
"No. To get the real effect you have to close your eyes. Now, come on."  
  
"What effect? If I close my eyes to I get a different present, then if I kept my eyes open?"  
  
"I'm just saying that it is customary when giving out presents that the receiving end of the party..."  
  
"Bloody hell you two! Darien close your eyes! Bobby give him the present."  
  
Neither man felt it safe to disagree with the Keeper and they immediately did as she asked. Hobbes placed a rectangular, video tape-sized package into Darien's hands.  
  
"Gee, I wonder what this could be?"  
  
"Just open it, wise guy."  
  
Darien carefully tore off the wrapping paper and stared at the gift for a few seconds. It appeared to be a blank, recordable, VHS tape.  
  
"Uh, what is it?"  
  
"Before our last assignment, the one right before our vacation, I had the opportunity to go down and visit your Aunt Celia. I wanted to get you something really great this year, so," Bobby paused, "it's a tape of clips from your family Christmases, starting with your first Christmas, up to your last one with Kevin. Don't worry, we only picked out the uh, happy moments, which might I add, were especially hard to find during you teen years."  
  
"Oh yeah, I know."  
  
Darien started to tear up. He wasn't one to get emotional and all, but this was something truly special to him. He would be able to see Kevin again. Even though it was only on videotape it still meant a great deal to him. He looked up at Hobbes.  
  
"Thanks. Thank you Bobby. This really...it really means a lot to me."  
  
"I know partner, I know."  
  
There was a knock at the door and Eberts appeared.  
  
"Uh, Darien? I believe you have one more gift."  
  
"Hey its a regular Christmas morning around here! Oh God, I just remembered. That night, there was this old guy. He, uh, well he was injured by..."  
  
"He's fine partner. My crew and I found him before your group came out. He's okay."  
  
  
  
"Thank god. But still, why couldn't it have been a mime?"  
  
Hobbes just laughed, "You already tried that once Fawkes."  
  
"What'd you do to a mime?" a voice asked.  
  
Darien turned his head to the door. Standing there, right in front of his face, was Adam Reese. Darien just stared for a second, not believing what he saw. He blinked and took another look. It was Adam, and he was holding the basketball Darien had gotten him for Christmas.  
  
"Adam?"  
  
"Darien, that's what I was trying to tell you earlier. I discovered the cure to Adam's virus. It's been completely eradicated from his system. He's just a normal, teenage boy now," Claire seemed to answer Darien's question satisfactorily. Adam walked over and gave Darien a hug. To keep from crying, Darien thought it was better to make a joke instead.  
  
"Are you sure that's such a wise thing Keep? I mean, normal, teenage boys are pretty tough to deal with."  
  
"Hey, I'm not that bad. And I could take you in video games any day."  
  
Eberts started to speak again.  
  
"Excuse me, Agent Fawkes, Agent Hobbes. The Official would like to see you to in his office as soon as possible. He would like to explain to you Agent Fawkes, why Robert was at the crime scene, with a full team, exactly what you were helping to steal, what happened to your 'friends', and of course, he would like a reasonable explanation as to why you were there in the first place. He has also asked me to inform you he has explained to the FBI that you were part of a deep undercover operation and that you will not be charged with any crime."  
  
"Sweet! Thanks Ebes. Tell the Fat Man we'll be right up."  
  
Eberts nodded his head as usual and left the room.  
  
"Hey Adam, looks like business before pleasure, again. But hey, as soon as this little pow-wow is over how about I take you on in some snowboard racing. I think basketball is gonna have to wait till I can walk."  
  
"Sure thing, Darien. Claire, can I come with you?"  
  
"Sure Adam. I bet I could find something for you to do in the Keep. Let's go."  
  
The two started to leave and Adam gave Darien a sly thumbs up as he left with the Keeper.  
  
"Hey! Little punk," Hobbes cried.  
  
"Watch it Hobbesy. He might try to steal your girl."  
  
Hobbes helped Darien get into a wheel chair.  
  
"She's not my girl."  
  
"You mean not yet."  
  
Hobbes wheeled Darien out of the room.  
  
"Watch it pal, or you'll find yourself wheeling down a very long and steep ramp."  
  
"Oh, is that a threat."  
  
"You better believe my friend, you better believe it."  
  
"I can report threats to the Official you know..."  
  
"You wouldn't dream of it."  
  
The two went off down the hallway towards the Official's office. Everything was falling back into order again, unfortunately. 


End file.
